


spanner in the works

by peach_june



Category: TREASURE (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Autistic Hamada Asahi, Fluff, Friendship/Love, M/M, set in the webdrama universe lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:55:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29857707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peach_june/pseuds/peach_june
Summary: Set in "It's Okay, It's Friendship"/"괜찮아, 우정이야" verseHamada Asahi enjoys predictability, and recently his life has become anything but predictable.
Relationships: Hamada Asahi/Kanemoto Yoshinori
Comments: 7
Kudos: 53





	spanner in the works

**Author's Note:**

> heyyyy sorry abt not updating my other fic yet but after i watched tmap i just had to write this lil thing....
> 
> also no i am not speculating on whether the real person asahi is autistic i simply saw his webdrama character and it Felt Right
> 
> anyway, here's how yosahi can still win

Hamada Asahi likes predictability.

He knows what is expected of him and the knowledge makes his life simple. He must go to school and receive high marks. He must remain friends - or at least remain civil - with Watanabe Haruto, because their fathers have been business partners since before either of them were born. After his schooling is complete, Asahi must work for his father’s company in order to one day inherit it.  
His life has been planned out for him, and Asahi takes comfort in that stability.

Just as predictably, his wealth, his looks, and his alliance with the Watanabe heir make him one of the “popular” boys. The reputation Asahi’s made for himself as the school’s ice prince may not be the most enjoyable role he has to fulfill, but he attends to it with the same amount of dedication that he does everything.

Asahi enjoys his routine. He truly does. His is a life without clutter, confusion, or the risk of failure.

The arrival of the Kim twins shatters his comfortable routine.

* * *

Asahi has always been a bit of an outsider. He prefers listening to speaking, observing to being watched.

He wasn’t like his childhood friend Jaehyuk, the boy who’d become a personable class president and wouldn’t hesitate to extend a welcoming hand. He wasn’t like Haruto either, and refused to adopt the irritating bad boy persona that Asahi knew perfectly well was only a mask.

When he was younger, he’d made more of an effort to be like his agemates, but he always ended up doing it wrong. They laughed at him rather than with him, and around the time he realized that, Asahi developed the cold exterior that had grown to define him among his peers. He had become a statue. Stiff, unapproachable, and unbreakable.

After a while, everyone let him be.

So when he comes to school the day after the shitshow that was the Kim twins’ first day, Asahi stops in his tracks when he finds Junghwan sitting behind his desk. He blinks, then again, but the boy hasn’t moved, so Asahi can’t be imagining it.

“So Junghwan,” he says.

Junghwan looks away from Doyoung and gives Asahi a sunny smile. “Good morning, Asahi-hyung.”

“Don’t call me that,” is Asahi’s automatic response, and then, “You’re in my seat.”

“Ah. Yes, I am,” Junghwan says. He pouts up at Asahi and flutters his long, cow-like eyelashes. “Could we switch desks, Asahi? I already asked our homeroom teacher and he said that he would allow it if you agreed.”

Asahi frowns minutely. “But this is my desk,” he says. “This is where I sit.”

Junghwan’s expression does something weird that Asahi isn’t sure how to translate, then his mouth pulls into a thin smile. “I know that,” he says, slow. “But I’m asking if you would move to the desk next to Yoshi-hyung. I would owe you.”

“I don’t understand,” Asahi tells him. He’s getting a bit upset and is trying his best to keep it hidden. “Why do you want to sit in my seat? It isn’t any closer to the board. If you’re having trouble seeing, it would make more sense to switch with someone in the front row.”

“No, it’s-” Junghwan sighs. “I’m not having trouble seeing the board. I just would like to sit beside Doyoung-hyung. That’s all.”

Asahi tilts his head, thinking it over. He doesn’t want to switch desks. He’s been sitting there all year and has become accustomed to it. He knows exactly how many steps it takes to reach the front of the room and the bathroom he prefers on the third floor. He knows to take off his uniform jacket during third period on sunny days because the sun shines through the window and makes him sweat - and he hates sweating. He knows the spot at the rounded end of the pencil trough that he’s worn into a paler color by rubbing over it with his thumb. Most importantly, his desk is near Jaehyuk, who may not understand his idiosyncrasies but will defend him anyway.

“I don’t want to move,” Asahi says. Then he hedges, “But, um, maybe you could convince Yoshinori to switch with Doyoung, instead?”

Junghwan’s smile morphs, and Asahi recognizes that earlier it had been strained and fake. “That’s a great idea, Asahi! I’ll go ahead and ask him. And, haha, I guess I’ll get out of your chair, too.”  
Asahi sits, relieved to have figured out an alternate solution. He breathes quietly for a moment.

“He’s so weird,” he hears Jeongwoo complain, and Asahi has to close his eyes against the sharp burst of misery behind his sternum.

The words rattle around in his head, not just in Jeongwoo’s voice but in the voices of the children he’d tried to befriend, the gossips who whisper as he passes in the hallways, his parents having a hushed argument downstairs that he wasn’t supposed to hear.

_Weird_ , they’ve always called him. _Freak, alien, robot. Unnatural._

Asahi is snapped out of his spiral by the sound of a voice right next to him. His eyes fly open and he whips his head around jerkily to see the speaker.

Yoshinori. Right.

“Hello, Yoshinori-san,” Asahi offers.

He grins, eyes scrunching up like a pleased cat, and says, “No need to be so formal. Call me Yoshi-kun!”

Asahi bites the inside of his lip, staring fixedly at the spot between Yoshinori’s eyes. “Yoshi...san,” he says.

Yoshi’s smile doesn’t dim, nor does he look away from Asahi. “I guess we’ll work up to that, huh? That’s alright. Is there something you’d like me to call you?”

This is not a question Asahi has been asked before. It startles him into meeting Yoshi’s eyes, but his gaze skitters back away just as quickly. He doesn’t have a nickname. He’s Asahi-kun to his parents and niisan to his younger brother, but those aren’t exactly names he’s want anyone else to call him. But Yoshi’s given him a name, and Asahi wants to return one.

“Call me,” he starts, his tongue feeling clumsy in his mouth, “Hi-san.”

A hand is pushed between the two of them and Asahi, not wanting to be rude despite his general dislike of being touched, gives Yoshi his own to shake.

“It’s nice to finally speak with you, Hi-san,” Yoshi tells him. “Hah, I’ve only ever known you as the school’s resident prettyboy.”

Another name Asahi didn’t think he’d ever be called. He blinks down at their joined hands and tries to think of something to say, but is saved from his social ineptitude by the arrival of their homeroom teacher.

He withdraws his hand, but feels the warmth of Yoshi’s palm against his for a long time after.

* * *

Yoshi-watching kind of becomes Asahi’s thing after that.

Asahi makes note of the people his new seatmate regularly interacts with outside of class. He has a solid group of friends and interacts with more people on a daily basis than Asahi does in a week. He’s not like Asahi, who is only associated with a group of people due to their similar reputations.

He knows that it’s kind of creepy to watch Yoshi all the time, but Asahi has never been fascinated by someone like this before. Yoshi comes from an entirely different world than Asahi and he shines so brightly that it’s hard to Asahi to comprehend.

It’s not something he predicted. It’s not something that should even be happening, because nothing is supposed to get in the way of his studies. He’s never _let_ anything get in the way.

He thinks he should be more bothered by it than he is. Asahi should care about the fact that his eyes sometimes drift to Yoshi during class, watching delicate wrist bones move beneath thin skin as he writes. He should care that he can recognize Yoshi’s laugh across the gym, that when Yoshi speaks Asahi stops what he’s doing to listen, that Yoshi’s mere presence beside him is the greatest distraction.

Something is wrong with him. But something’s always been wrong with him.

Yoshi never gives him fake smiles. He never makes fun of Asahi for not being able to follow a conversation. He never complains that Asahi bounces his legs too much, or that he fidgets too much, or that he doesn’t make enough eye contact. He never calls Asahi names, but always knows how to bring him back out of his head when he overhears someone else do so.

“Hi-san,” Yoshi says in that gentle voice of his. He’s careful not to touch Asahi unless Asahi reaches out first. He laughs along to Asahi’s attempts at jokes.

He is the first person to ever understand Asahi.

* * *

Yoshi pulls Asahi into the fold of his friend group.

They all share a homeroom, so Asahi knows of them all, but he can’t recall a conversation he’s had with any of the people Yoshi associates with.

They accept him readily enough, going so far as to hang out with him even when Yoshi isn’t around. When they make plans to meet outside of school, they extend the invitation to Asahi.

Asahi likes them, especially when he learns they’re all just as passionate about music as he is. They all talk for a long, long time, and Asahi can’t remember ever speaking so much in his life.

But when Yoshi’s friends plan an outing in front of him again, Asahi is positive he isn’t invited. They all stare at him, seeming surprised when he tells them he assumed he wasn’t welcome to join them.

“When we make plans, you’re always invited,” Hyunsuk assures Asahi.

Jihoon knocks their shoulders together lightly. “You’re one of us now, got it?” he says with a grin.

“I would understand if you didn’t want me there,” Asahi tells them. “It’s okay.”

Mashiho frowns at him. “You’re our friend, Hi-san. Why wouldn’t we want to hang out with you?”

Asahi pauses, giving himself a moment to compile a list of all the reasons people have given for not inviting him to one thing or another over the years. “Well,” he starts, “I am awkward. I don’t understand jokes. I take things too literally. I can be rude. I am- “

“Whoever told you all of that,” Jihoon interrupts, “I’m going to find them and kick some ass.”

“What?” Asahi asks, bewildered.

Yedam is nodding his agreement, though. “I don’t know how to fight, but I could hit somebody with my guitar.”

“Hi-san,” Yoshi says, and Asahi looks to him just as he always does. “I’m not sure who said that stuff to you, but they were not your friend. They obviously didn’t know you at all.”

Asahi doesn’t understand. “I don’t understand,” he says.

“You’re not awkward or rude,” Yoshi tells him firmly. “You’re just you, and whoever told you all that like it’s a bad thing - I don’t think they even bothered trying to get to know you. But that doesn’t mean nobody will ever bother to try, because we tried.” He pauses, then smiles, dropping his gaze in a way that Asahi has learned means he’s embarrassed. “I tried. And you’re charming and sweet and funny and clever, okay? You’re... You’re just right the way you are, and it’s a privilege to be your friend, Asahi.”

Asahi feels like he’s been hit with a bowling ball. Yoshi is blushing, pink crawling up his neck and cheeks while he says the nicest words Asahi has ever heard and he- Asahi is-

“I think I have a crush on you,” Asahi breathes out, the realization compressing his lungs.

For some reason, this makes the group around him burst into hysterical laughter.

Asahi doesn’t care, because Yoshi’s head is snapping up, eyes wide when they meet Asahi’s, and for once he doesn’t feel like he needs to look away. Then Yoshi’s whole face is scrunching up with the force of his smile, one of Asahi’s favorite sights in the world.

He didn’t predict that. Had no idea this was even in the realm of possibility.

“That’s good,” Yoshi is saying through the din of their friends’ cackling. “Because I definitely have one on you.”

Asahi wouldn’t try to prevent the grin from spreading across his lips for anything, because Yoshi looks at him like he’s the only person that exists. He reaches out and takes Yoshi’s hand, relieved when his skin doesn’t shriek at the sensation.

Utterly and completely unpredictable.

“Yoshi-kun,” Asahi says, so full he thinks he might burst.

He leans into Asahi’s space to press their foreheads together.

“I know, Hi-kun,” Yoshi tells him. “Me too.”


End file.
